Author's infos

Introduction:

Marie decides to spend a year traveling the world with her husband and best friend, experiencing her submissive side

Marie's Submissive Year
Weeks 1-4 - Chicago

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WARNING and DISCLAIMER: This story outlines the travels of a middle-aged wife who decided to spent a year exploring her long-repressed submissive side. Her husband and her best friend subject her to the worst kinds of depravities during a year-old international junket. If you don't like that kind of thing, please go read something else and don't leave feedback here about how horrible and disgusting the story is. It's fiction and it's supposed to be.
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John looked at his watch. Nearly noon. Lora would be at Hyatt, waiting in the lounge for him. He looked around his desk, everything was in order. The revisions on the outgoing briefs were marked and stacked, his IN box was, for the first time in years, clean. He'd offloaded most of his workload to two of the other firms in town and hadn't taken on any new work since Marie lost her job three weeks ago. They didn't know what they were going to do, but they'd always talked about traveling the world if they had the opportunity. Maybe this was it.
He shook his head. Right. As if this was "it". Lora didn't think so.
But then, Lora was insane. Or, to put it politely, she lived 'outside the box'.
His phone rang and he took a quick call from another potential client. It bothered him to be turning down work but they'd didn't need the money and he wanted his calendar clear. Just in case.
They'd done their calculations and they could easily retire on what they had in the bank and investments. Or at least take a year off. For a couple in their late thirties, they'd done incredibly well. Marie had been one of the originals in a startup software firm that had hit big and been bought. John's career in contract law was less flashy but by staying independent and working with low overhead, he'd banked just under a million dollars in the last few years. Plus they'd bought Google on the way up. They were comfortable.
The alarm on his laptop beeped. It was noon. He'd told Lora he'd be there at noon. Why was he hesitating? Weren't Marie and Lora about to offer him the chance to live out his wildest teen aged fantasies? The two of them had been planning "something big" since last weekend. Marie moved in with Lora ten days ago and he hadn't seen her since.
Something about that thought made his cock stir. The thrill of the unknown. And his wife in the hands of their friend Lora. It could mean anything. Maybe Lora had taught his wife some new tricks. Maybe -- could it be possible -- a threesome?
Lora was the right one to do that.
She'd taken a completely different road after college. While Marie and John buckled down to their jobs, Lora took to the road. Or the skies more specifically. Two years as a stewardess followed by the last six or seven as a high priced "escort". She'd been all around the world, spending a night here, a week there, and once ninety days as the live-in "deal closer" for an international developer named Han. Whenever someone was on the fence about a buy or a sell that Han really wanted, Lora be brought into the picture and, after a few days -- or in one case, two weeks -- the papers were signed and Lora took a percentage of the profits.
She'd played all the roles. The girlfriend, the ex-wife, the dominatrix, the submissive, Asian, French, English -- whatever the customer wanted. And, over the years, there was almost no perverted, deviant act Lora hadn't been asked to perform. She attacked every one of them with gusto, reveling in the use of her body for any purpose that brought more gold into her coffers.
When Marie lost her job three weeks ago, Lora had been quick to suggest Marie join her. They laughed about it the first time Lora mentioned it. At two-hundred forty two pounds on a five-foot-ten frame, Marie was not someone who made heads turn. That wasn't exactly true, John thought, she *did* turn heads. There was something intensely sensual about her face -- her eyes and lips and the way her neck flowed into her shoulders, then down into the cleavage of her natural DD chest. Her thick, brown hair was usually pulled back in a single pony talk but when she let it fall free around her face, she did more than turn heads. John was sure she'd made more than a few cocks stand up and take notice.
John smiled. His cock has stiffened as his imagination flashed on Marie sitting on the bed with Lora running a brush through her hair. What *was* in store for him at the Hyatt?
He got up and took his jacket off of the hangar on the back of the door. Twenty-five hundred dollars. Who would have ever expected to spend that kind of money on a suit? He chuckled out loud. It's strange how life turns out sometimes.
---
John poured the last half of the Foster's into the short glass and held the can in his hand, looking at the label without reading it.
"John?" Lora said quietly.
John didn't response.
"John, it's nothing to be embarrassed about."
He looked around. The lounge was nearly empty, even at lunch time it didn't seem to draw much of a crowd. There was the bartender, two waitresses in short, black dresses, and only two other people. A couple, sitting in a booth across the room, both in suits, a stack of papers on the table between them. Probably lawyers, he thought, then smiled.
"How long has she known?"
"Does that matter?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. I don't know." He took a drink. "How long?"
"At least a year. Not much longer."
John shook his head, looked down at his glass.
"Why didn't you ever mention it?"
He snapped his head up, looked into her eyes, angry. "Why? Well, it's not exactly the kind of thing you can drop in the middle of a conversation, is it? 'Dear, you know all those nights I said I was downstairs watching replays of my favorite concerts? Well, I was really surfing kink websites. That's not exactly something you bring up over dinner."
"I thought you two talked about everything."
"We do, but there are limits, you know?" He picked up the beer glass.
Lora nodded. "I do. I've sent them all and I know there are some you *never* talk about. You could have talked to me about it, you know. You two know about my life."
John got more angry. "Talk to you about it? You're not my wife? You're insane, you know that?" He slammed the glass on the table. "Damn it, Lora, you're just insane."
Lora just stared at him.
"I'm sorry," he said after a few seconds.
Lora's face shifted slightly. She reached across the table and put her hand on top of his.
"Do you see how easy that was?"
John gave her a puzzled look.
"Your shift. You were angry at me, but I held my ground and you caved in, you turned apologetic, you turned...submissive."
John felt an uncomfortable twist in his stomach. That word turned him on but he'd never applied it to himself. "What's your point?"
"People shift. People can change."
She reached for her purse on the bench beside her, rested it on the table.
"Have you ever talked to Marie about Submission? About Bondage?"
John looked up and scanned the room quickly. "Keep your voice down."
"Have you?"
John shook his head. "No, no, never."
Lora opened her purse and took out a small black case.
"So you probably have no idea how often she came downstairs after you were asleep and watched the same movies you'd watched before you came upstairs and fucked her?"
"Bullshit."
"And she'd masturbate right there in your chair, sweating and oozing onto your chair. The same chair you'd been jerking off in, getting yourself ready to come up and visit her.?"
"Bullshit."
"But, you aren't sure, are you? I can hear it in your voice."
John stopped. He'd wondered sometimes but never let himself think about it. She always said she was sleeping downstairs in the guest room because it was further from the street and quiet.
"She loves you, you know. You never judge her, never talked about her weight or that she won't swallow or that she won't take it up the ass."
"What the fuck? Do you two talk about everything?"
Lora took her cell phone out of her purse and punched in a number. "We do now." She kept her eyes on him while she talked, "you can come in now." Pause. "Yes, in the lounge." Pause. "Exactly as you are." Pause. "Or we could repeat Thursday night. I thought not. We will be here."
John felt his stomach tighten. What had happened Thursday night? And if Marie was nearby, why wasn't she there when he arrived? They'd sat through drinks and mushroom caps and talking for over half an hour while Marie had been waiting...where?
Lora opened the small black case and John looked at the device she slid into her hand. It looked like the remote control for a television set, small and black with buttons, knobs, and switches. "You can play with it later. I need to teach you how to use it," she said with a hint of conspiracy in her voice.
She looked up and nodded over John's right shoulder. "She's here. Your wife's here."
John turned and looked behind him. It was his wife but not like he'd seen her before. She was wearing a full-length dress of what looked like gray flannel. The neck was high and the sleeves came down to her wrists. There was a second layer over it, a waist-length cape of the same fabric. His first thought, as ridiculous as it was, was 'she must be baking hot'. He noticed she was walking slowly, each step measured in just inches. He looked at her feet and saw she was in closed-toe mule shoes, black leather with one-inch heels. Marie's arms hung at her sides and John noticed she had rings on every finger, all silver or petwer, her middle finger on each hand had three or four, knuckle to knuckle.
"Come, pet," Lora said. One of the waitresses heard it and turned.
"Sorry, not you," Lora said with a grin. She nodded toward Marie. "This one."
The waitress gave Lora a confused look and went back to folding napkins.
When Marie reached the table, Lora slid over in the booth and patted the wooden bench. "Sit, dear."
Marie didn't move. John looked at her hands, noticed her fingers were moving, making small nervous, twitchy motions. She was staring at her shoes, her face frozen.
"Now," Lora said sweetly.
Marie stood beside the bench and lowered herself slowly until her bottom was on the seat. John saw her mouth tighten and he felt a rush through his crotch as he remembered scenes like this from a hundred different DandS movies. Marie twisted, bringing her legs underneath the table with a single turn, then set her hands palm down on the table in front of her.
John looked at his wife's face. Her skin, always flawless and smooth, was even more beautiful than he remembered. She was focused, as if she was concentrating intently on something. The makeup around her eyes made them stand out even more than usual, her lashes were done to look longer than ever, and her lips were a bright red without being cartoonish.
What stood out the most, though, was the way she held her head. Inclined slightly forward, her eyes focused on the spot on the table between the tips of her fingers.
The three of them sat for several minutes in silence. Occasionally, Marie would squirm or suck in a quick breath, but she always regained her composure quickly while Lora just smiled. A thin film of sweat broke over her forehead and John watched a single bead drip down her nose, hanging from the tip until it fell, soaking into the fabric of her half-cape.
When the waitress asked what Marie was drinking, Lora ordered "water, no ice, lukewarm if you please. And in a large glass." John's cock twitched as he remembered stories he'd read about piss control. What kind of game was Lora playing with him and why was Marie going along with it. They were teasing him. Making him pay for his porn habit?
The waitress brought the glass and sat it on the table in front of Marie. Lora said thank you and the lady walked away quietly. Lora made a small motion with her hand and Marie picked up the glass. She sipped and Lora nodded. Marie sat the glass back on the table, her eyes returned to the same spot as before.

during training add 'hand sugnala like a dog

"John," Lora said, her voice as calm as if they were talking about the weather.
John broke himself out of his fog and looked at Lora. "Yeah?"
"John, your wife has learned a lot about herself this last week. And it's time you learned about her as well. And about yourself too." She turned to Marie. "Marie, go ask the young lady for another glass of water."
Without a word, Marie turned herself and stood up, walking slowly across the room toward where the waitress was sitting. She still took the tiny half-steps, her arms dangling at her sides.
"She's going crazy, can you tell?" Lora asked, looking John in the eyes.
"Something is going on," he said, his voice hoarse, aroused and slightly afraid.
"That outfit looks warm, doesn't it?"
John nodded.
"There is a layer of burlap underneath it. She is itching like hell. It's horrible. I wore one for an entire week in Iran once. The wool over it keeps in the heat and every slight move, even breathing, makes the burlap itch."
John's eyes widened. He turned to look at his wife, standing stiff next to the waitresses table.
"Her tits are bare underneath the cape. The front of the dress is open. Her nipples are rubbing against the burlap inside of the little cape. It causes more friction than the dress would. The cape sways more freely." Lora watched John's face. He was fascinated and getting turned on. "You see the way she is walking? She is hobbled by a four inch chain between her ankles. It is part of her obedience training."
John turned to her, his mouth slightly open. "Obedience training?"
"I told you. She watched the same movies."
John turned and looked at his wife, seeing her in a whole new light now. All these years, if he'd just had the guts to bring up the subject, they might have been playing games all along.
"There is a six inch rod in her cunt." John's eyes blinked when Lora used the word. What kind of world was he entering? "There is an eight inch long one up her ass. We've been working very hard this last week." She watched his face. "For your benefit, John. Always for your benefit."
Marie turned and started walking back toward the table, a tall glass of water in her hands.
"And, I know this sounds mundane, but she's rigged with both a remote control vibrator and a remote control shocking device." Lora slid the small box across the table to John. He was smiling now, his head swimming, his cock stiffening.
"In a week? All of this in a week?"
"Ten days," Lora smiled. "And years before that, John." She turned and looked in Marie's direction. "Years." She put up her hand and Marie froze in place, eyes fixed on Lora's hand.
"Watch," Lora said.
She cupped her hand and tilted it. Marie raised the glass to her lips and took a drink of the tepid water. John nodded. Lora lifted her index finger and twirled it. Marie, like a marionette on a string, slowly turned in a circle, shifting her feet slowly because of the hobble.
When Marie was back in her original position, Lora leaned forward and touched the table with the tips of her fore and middle fingers. She pressed them and her knuckles parted slightly. John saw Marie's face go slightly red as she opened her knees. The movement was so slight nobody would have noticed it if they weren't looking, but to John -- and no doubt, Marie -- she might as well have just pulled up her dress and spread her legs wide open.
"Try the red button, second row."
John looked at Lora. She nodded toward the RC and repeated, "second row. Red button."
John looked at the device. Nothing was labeled, Lora must have memorized it all. He pressed the button and Lora chuckled. "Hold it down." He did. Lora nodded toward Marie and John turned his head.
His wife was still standing motionless but he saw the water in the glass was moving. Shaking. He looked up and saw she'd closed her eyes. After another few seconds, he saw her pressing her lips together tighter.
"What do you think, John? Is that the vibrator? Or is it the wire up her ass? Or the one in her pussy."
"Oh, fuck!" John moaned, his cock stiff at attention now. He watched his wife tremble, his finger still on the button, eyes getting wide.
"John. John, enough," Lora said. She reached across the table and pulled the device away from him. They heard a crash as the glass slid out of Marie's hand and exploded on the floor.
"I'm not going to tell you," Lora said with a laugh. "You can figure it for yourself." She put the device back in her purse. "Or you can ask your wife."
---
Back in the room, John had Marie strip naked then took her up the ass for the first time, her on her hands and knees, a leather hood over her head (Lora insisted), and clover clamps on her nipples. John felt like he was in a movie and fucked his wife's ass for a long, long time. Fantasy after fantasy played out in his head, his favorite movie clips, images of her down in the hotel lounge just a few minutes ago, the look on Lora's face as she handed over his bright, shiny new wife to him.
Marie fucked back just as hard. Lora had brought her to the edge over and over but it was always dildoes or fingers or vibrators, she hadn't had a cock inside her for a week before Lora took her away, so it had been over three weeks since her last fuck. And now John was using her ass, like she'd seen in the movies and dreamed about over and over. She couldn't ask him, he would have thought it was sick, twisted, horrible. It was one thing for him to watch those movies, but if he knew his wife had the same fantasies, he would have gone crazy. That's what she had thought. Now she knew better. All that wasted time. Time they had to make up for. She and Lora had a plan but they would tell John about it later. Later. After he finished fucking her. She came again and again, sneaking her hand along the edge of the bed to grab the chain between the nipple clamps and pull them, hard, harder, until she felt she'd pull off her own nipples, then just a bit more. When John came inside her, she collapsed on the bed, giving a sharp yelp as the clamps bit into her nipples one last time.
---
"Are you two ready for a break?" Lora asked.
John turned and looked at her, sitting calmly in an armchair in the corner. He'd forgotten she was there, watching, orchestrating it all.
"Yeah," he managed between panting breaths. He slid backwards, sliding his limp prick out of his wife's ass. He crawled to the head of the bed, propped up on the pillows there. Marie crawled off of the bed and across the room to Lora. Lora removed the hood and gave her a kiss on the forehead. Marie got up on her knees, arms behind her back. Lora reached for the chain between the clamps and raised it, letting it dangle from her finger. "I think I'll leave these on while you finish the job." Marie nodded and crawled back to the bed. She climbed on and lowered her head between John's legs. She took his prick in her mouth and cleaned him gently while Lora went into the kitchen.
"John, ice water or Fosters?"
"Beer."
"She's been wanting to do that for a long time you know," Lora said from the kitchen as she opened the refrigerator.
John didn't answer. His wife's tongue was licking the bottom of his shaft, just at the top of the ball sack. He didn't know if the feeling or the sound was turning him on more, but his cock was responding already.
"John?" Lora said as she handed him the big, blue can. "We noticed something about your movies."
"Uh, huh," John nodded.
"You have some favorite themes."
John nodded again, less sheepish this time. "I know what I like, yes."
"All of the movies on your Favorites -- yes, we did find your little hidden page -- all of them are group scenes. Big groups."
John rested his hand on the top of his wife's head, directing her back toward his cockhead.
"Yes."
Lora was quiet for a moment, the sounds of Marie's tongue filled the room.
"I know a lot of men who like big girls." Lora said. "A lot."
John nodded.
"All over the world, John. A lot of men would like their cocks deep inside your big, round, luscious tramp of a wife."
John pushed his wife's head back toward his balls. She licked eagerly, her hand sliding down the bed and between her legs.
Listening to them talk about her like that turned her on. Was there any chance John would go for it? They could have a wonderful life from now on just living on fantasies about this. What if he really wanted to do it? She shuddered. Would he let her? Could she take it? Man after countless man climbing on top of her, strange cock after strange cock shooting their seed into her cunt. Cunt. Cunt. Cunt. Lora had made her say it over and over all week while she masturbated. She repeated it in her head until she came, her body shuddering at the word and the touch of her fingers.
"What do you say, John? A world tour. I can make the arrangements." Lora got up and went back to the kitchen, poured herself another glass of wine. "She'll need more training and I'll have to get in touch with a lot of people. You can handle the legalities, you know about that sort of thing." She came back into the room. "Of course, there shouldn't be much more than passport work. This isn't exactly something you write a contract about."
John shook his head. "No. No, you don't." He grabbed his wife's hair in his fist and pulled her head back, looking into her eyes. "You're into this?" She lowered her eyes. "Hey! Plenty of time for that later." He bent over, pulled her closer. She looked up and he asked, "you've been fantasizing about this?"
"For years," she whispered, still looking into his eyes. "Years."
John still felt funny. Taking his wife around the world to service strangers in towns he'd never been to, following Lora to all the bedrooms and brothels she'd no doubt slept in while she was building up her retirement fund.
John let go of her hair and slid back toward the headboard.
"All right, fuck pig. Get me in your ass. And squat so I don't get crushed."
Marie felt a rush, he'd never talked to her that was but it made her gush. She squatted over him and reached underneath, impaling herself on his stiff cock. She sank it all the way in, felt the sharp pain already in her legs. She wasn't going to be able to do this for more than a few seconds.
John watched her face, knew she was struggling, enjoyed it, her dedication to pleasing him, to turning herself over to this fantasy. He reached for the chain and yanked hard, listened to her quick scream as he tore off the nipple clamps.
Lora watched her friend try to keep her balance while she fucked her husband, watched the look on his face as she struggled. She smiled. He was hooked, she'd won, her friend was going to get her fantasy.
She took out a small notebook and started writing down dates and cities.

Are these the wondrous imaginings of a most extraordinary mind, or the undifferentiated ramblings of a restless soul? As of yet I'm still not sure. Should it be seen as something more than a promise of greater things to come, or is it just that; The unfulfilled promise of both the author and her story? Given the breath of the writer's talents, I'd like to believe she'll find a way to make all that come about. And, given what I've read thus far, I personally hope to see that happen.

Good job, although you might wish to consider the services of a reasonable competent editor. Just a suggestion.